To be together
by Rogercat
Summary: Dior and Nimloth may have a unusual marriage, but there is no reason to doubt their feelings for each other


**To be together**

As soon as they could, and had the strength for it, Nimloth and Dior left the Gardens of Lorien after their rebirth, together with their twin sons. It would likely not take long before whispers were spread about that the son of Luthien and Beren had chosen to be counted among Elves, and they did not want any of that attention again.

Not after what had happen in Doriath when they had ruled for only three years. Not a second time, after what was lost.

"I will not be haunted by the ghosts of my parents again…!" Dior muttered for himself as they rode on, staying away from other people during the journey unless it was for getting some fresh food, and Nimloth felt his determination though the bond between their souls. She could not fault Dior, not when remembering how people had always talked about his parents so much that he grew sick of hearing their names.

"_Yes...you are your own person, beloved, and should not be remembered solely as their son or for being the ruler when Doriat fell!_"

How had the Elves of Doriath expected that he would be a good leader without even any training in leadership? A young adult, who was already kept busy with being married and a father of three small children?

It had been Finrod, of all people, that had helped them find a cottage fitting for a small family. Well hidden in the woods but not too far away from a small village, just as Dior and Nimloth wanted. He even had his own servants prepare everything for their arrival while Finrod himself guided the family of four to where the cottage was hidden between the trees near a small stream.

"I am only doing this because I have been pestered by people who wanted to know what kind of people your parents were, young Dior. I do not regret helping your father, but if I could go back in time somehow, he would find it a lot harder to request my help even with my promise to his father Barahir. I would have demanded you as a ward in return for my help once you were old enough, and hopefully help you fix the gaps in your education because I can tell that a lot of your mistakes with my Fëanorian cousins was caused by that you were sheltered by well-meaning family members but in the long run they ended up doing a great deal of harm for you."

Finrod had grown a little cynical about the whole Quest for the Silmaril, given that if you removed the whole romance in their tale, Luthien and Beren had seriously messed up the tense relationship between Doriath and the Noldor though their actions, in a way that made them look very selfish depending on who you asked.

Anyway, Dior, his wife and their three small children had been the ones to suffer the major consequences because Luthien and Beren had basically escaped responsibility by setting down in Tol Galen to raise their son away from people and then using their mortality to leave the world a second time. The second King of Doriath had fallen in a duel against Celegorm during the Second Kinslaying while the realm fell apart around them and Dior had died at the young age of only 36 years, Nimloth was slain when defending the nursery with their children against attacking Noldor soldiers, Eluréd and Elurín had frozen to death in the cold winter and the far too young Elwing had been forced to shoulder a burden and legacy she did not really understand.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

Of course, things had not become perfect just because Dior and his sons had chosen Elvenkind in order to be able to stay with Nimloth, or that they had chosen to live a simple life in an attempt to escape the past. Dior was still haunted by his mortal blood in some ways, and she could not even call herself surprised when he one day were stuck by a fever.

"It could be that your new body is still somewhat foreign for you," Nimloth suggested when she had helped him back to bed so he could rest. Eluréd and Elurín had been sent out of the chamber, since Dior worried about them catching a possible illness from him.

"Just keep the boys away from me until that the fever is gone and I will be content," Dior requested in a weak voice, as he truly was not feeling well right now. This was not the first time he had fallen ill during the marriage, it had happened a few times before they became the new rulers of Doriath and Nimloth could feel some of his distress though the marriage bond. Again a shadow of that insecurity no one but she knew about, the unspoken self-doubt which Dior had managed to hide so well from others.

"I will make some chicken broth with ginger, does that sound nice?"

Her much younger husband nodded, already half-way into a much needed sleep in the hope of that the fever would leave him soon.

As she prepared everything needed for the broth and started to make it on a pot on the stove, Nimloth thought back to the events of the First Age. How some people had called Dior unnatural behind his back, whispers of that she would only face misery by marrying a so much younger husband that might not even live for a century, and how would it go with any possible children from a such marriage? There had been some less than pleasant court ladies who even had mocked her for marrying a child, saying that Dior may have a adult body but that his mind must still be that of a Elfling.

"They were wrong. Dior was surprising mature, if inexperienced in the area of life dealing with romance and what it really meant," she smiled for herself, recalling how he had grew a bit in self-confidence during the first two years of marriage, just in time before she became pregnant with their twin sons. He had needed it, since he had been haunted by how his very possible mortality could mean that he would not live a long life.

Besides, she had thought herself ready for the pain of losing him to the unknown Path of Men, when Dior had told Mandos that he wanted to remain with his wife, and their sons as well. He did not want to merely became a name in history, a shadow to the legend of his parents. He wanted to live with his family, and make amends for his mistakes in his first life.

Dior had been sleeping, when Nimloth came back with the finished broth in a bowl for him on a small tray.

"Sit up for a moment, I will move up the pillows for you."

Here in the faint light from the sun outside the window, it was impossible to miss the facial scars Dior still carried on his face from the duel against Celegorm. The Fëanorian had almost acted like a wild animal in his last moments of life, using his own finger nails to claw at Dior's face in a attempt to blind him just before they both realized the mutual killing hits. Dior had taken a fatal hit in the side, while Celegorm had found himself slashed across his throat in a lucky strike from Dior.

"Are the scars...unsightly?" Dior wondered when he noticed that she was looking at him. Nimloth shook her head in response.

"No. Because no matter what people laments about it since they were spoiled by her beauty, like your grandfather from the first moment he saw his newborn daughter, those scars do actually ensure that it's not the face of her that they see anymore."

Indeed, the scars made sure that Dior was less alike Luthien, and he even had thanked Celegorm for it. The third-born Fëanorian clearly had not expected a such gratitude from the one who had killed him, based on his own shocked reaction when the deeper meaning behind Dior's words had sunk in.

"I am glad to hear that it was the right decision, then," Dior smiled, and Nimloth felt herself be warmed by that honest smile. It was small moments like this, that made their unusual marriage meaningful. Not in the almost dramatic manner of Luthien and Beren, drawing a lot of attention towards themselves that would not be pleasant in the future, but simple everyday ways of showing love and affection.

Nimloth had known her kinswoman to be dramatic behind her mask of acting like a innocent maiden, and ignoring the romance with Beren, it had hardly been the first time Luthien did something that would bring a lot of future trouble to people around her.

In contrast, Dior was a quiet person, satisfied with doing small things that was useful at a longer point, like hunting something for dinner or taking care of the garden plot so his family could eat. He had never liked the royal court in Doriath, and been honestly unhappy during his short reign as King of Doriath, something Nimloth had shared.

This was the life they wanted together, to raise their sons to grow into independent, mature Elves that would not take things for granted. And now when Dior was counted among the Eldar, there would be no shadows of a too short marriage between them anymore. They would be together without the fear of being separated after death, thanks to having different afterlives.

"Nana, can you tell how you and Ada first meet?" one of the twins asked in the middle of them planning to kiss each other, and the parents took the interruption with great calmness. Since they had been asked so nicely, Eluréd and Elurín learnt of how their mother had impressed their father in his youth, by how skilled she was by using a sling and small stones as her favored weapon in defense and for hunting.

"Although to be fair, it also involved her striking a branch above me and as it happened to be autumn, I ended up with a lot of leaves in my hair just as she turned around," Dior commented, making the whole family laugh, Nimloth at the memory of how he had looked with red and yellow leaves in his hair when she had turned around to see who it was and his sons at the mental image of their parents.


End file.
